Monotok went freelance, working for a former Spetsnaz colonel who had joined up with a former KGB assassin to set up a murder-for-hire company. Assassinations were a common way of solving political and business disagreements in post-Soviet Russia and Monotok had an average of one job a week. Clients included the Kremlin, the Mafia and even legitimate businesses, eager to use a professional service that guaranteed to keep the killings at arm’s length. Monotok earned good money, ten times what he earned as a soldier, and he learned quickly. For the Spetsnaz he had been a simple killer, following orders, but as a freelance he learned about electronic surveillance, accessing databases, and gained access to fake documentation that allowed him to move freely around the world under a number of aliases. His hired a tutor to teach him English, and as his fluency increased the company sent him farther afield and Monotok killed in Europe and the United States. When he wasn’t working, Monotok dug up as much information as he could on Pyotr Grechko. And it didn’t take him long to track down three more faces from his past. Oleg Zakharov, Yuri Buryakov and Sasha Czernik. All four had become rich and powerful oligarchs, men who had the sort of wealth that others could only dream of, men for whom the world was a giant playground. But Monotok knew the truth about the four men, he knew that it wasn’t hard work or luck that had brought them their wealth. It had been cold-blooded murder, and for that they had to pay. Now Zakharov, Buryakov and Czernik were dead, and soon Grechko would join them. Then maybe the nightmares would finally stay away and he could sleep soundly for the first time since he was nine years old.
He tensed as he heard a key slot into the front door lock, but then almost immediately relaxed. It was seven o’clock in the morning. It was the girl, returning home. He heard the front door open and close, and then a shuffling sound as she removed her shoes. He smiled as he heard her tiptoe down the hallway and gently open the bedroom door. She paused, then tiptoed towards the bathroom. He let her get all the way to the bathroom door before speaking. ‘I’m not asleep.’
She jumped, and then laughed. ‘I was trying not to wake you.’ She jumped on the bed, rolled on top of him and kissed him.
‘Alina, you will never be able to sneak up on me, no matter how hard you try. If I had been a heavy sleeper when I was a teenager, I would have died, beaten to death as I slept.’
‘My wild man,’ said Podolski. She laughed as he ran his hands over her body. ‘Are you going to hammer me?’ she asked.
He rolled her on to her back and she opened her legs as he moved on top of her. ‘There’s no one I’d rather hammer than you.’
She put her hands either side of his face. ‘Bullshit, Kirill. You’re using me. Don’t pretend otherwise. You’re using me to get the inside track on that pig Grechko.’
‘You’re helping me,’ said Monotok. ‘And I’ll show you my gratitude.’ He started to pull off her shirt and slid his hand up to her breasts.
‘I’ll do it,’ she said, pushing him off her. ‘You fumble.’
He laughed as he rolled on to his back and she straddled him. ‘I do not fumble.’
She undid her shirt, slid it off and tossed it on to the floor. ‘You fumble,’ she said. ‘But I forgive you.’ She undid her bra and let her breasts swing free. ‘Now shut up and hammer me.’
Afterwards, he lay on his back staring up at the ceiling, his arm around her as she toyed with the hairs on his chest. She felt tiny lying next to him, soft and warm like a small bird. ‘Something strange happened today,’ she said quietly.
‘Really? What?’
‘We’ve all got to take a lie detector test. Grechko’s orders.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ he asked.
She laughed softly. ‘Because I wanted you to hammer me,’ she said. ‘And if I told you, you’d want to talk and not fuck.’
He gave her a small squeeze. His heart had started to race but he forced himself to stay calm and to keep his voice level and soothing. ‘You’re a bad girl,’ he said, then kissed her softly on the top of her head.
‘And you’re a bad man. That’s why we’re so good together.’
‘You’re not a bad girl, Alina. You have no idea what it is to be bad. So who has been questioned so far?’
‘The butler. Two of the maids. They did Dmitry first, he insisted.’
‘And who is carrying out the tests?’
‘Some sort of expert.’
‘Russian? Or English?’
‘Chinese. British Chinese. Or Chinese British. But he speaks Russian.’
‘And he will be questioning everyone at the house?’
‘That’s what Dmitry says. But it’s nothing, it’s about a stolen watch. Grechko has lost one of his watches. It’s worth four million dollars, they say. It’s a Patek Philippe, made of platinum. Old and very valuable.’
‘And they say someone stole it?’
‘From his bedroom. There is no CCTV there. It’s not a problem, he’s just asking if you stole the watch, I didn’t so it’ll be OK.’
‘How long does each test take?’
He felt her shrug. ‘Half an hour. Maybe more.’
‘Then he’s not just asking about the watch,’ said Monotok. ‘This expert, does he seem to know the two British guys who joined the security team?’
‘I’m not sure. But Tony is sitting in on the tests. He’s in the library all the time.’
‘And who did he arrive with, this expert?’
‘He came alone. Just after three o’clock yesterday afternoon.’
‘And when did the watch go missing?’
‘Yesterday, I think. Grechko called Dmitry in yesterday morning.’
‘Who hired this expert? Who called him in?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. Dmitry didn’t say.’
‘But it wasn’t Dmitry’s idea?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘And he’s British, you said?’
‘That’s right. Well, like I said, he’s Chinese. But he has an accent like he comes from the North. Not Scottish. It’s strange.’
‘If it was Grechko’s idea he would probably have used a Russian. Don’t you think?’
‘He prefers Russians, yes.’
Monotok nodded. ‘What about the woman who comes to see Grechko? The one who knows Ryan. Has she been again?’
‘No. What’s wrong? You think this is about you?’
‘I think it is unlikely that any member of Grechko’s staff would be stupid enough to steal from him. Especially a four-million-dollar watch.’ He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘They know,’ he said quietly.
He felt her tense. ‘They know what?’
‘They know that someone is passing information on Grechko. At least they suspect. When are you due to be tested?’
‘Tonight. After I report for work.’ She frowned. ‘It’s a problem?’
‘They’ll be looking for signs of anxiety. Nervousness.’
‘I’m not nervous,’ she said, stroking his chest.
‘You don’t feel nervous but the signs will be there. Respiration rate, sweat, skin conductivity, pulse rate. Things that you have no control over.’
‘I’ll take deep breaths and think sweet thoughts.’ She laughed. ‘I’ll think about you hammering me.’
‘That won’t work,’ he said. ‘There are ways of beating the machines but it takes practice and the right drugs.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Did they say when they want to test you? Is there a schedule?’
‘They just come and get you. It could be any time.’
He nodded as he stared up at the ceiling. ‘We do it tonight,’ he said quietly.